Arkisto

after innocence summary


Contemporary footage of insane asylums and women being treated for hysteria confirms a truth that’s still with us, nearly a century later: that the horrors of the past are never so far away. In it, Laugier suggests that there’s no way to escape from the pain of the exclusively physical reality of his film. See me now,” Gary Oldman’s undead vampire intones, so as to magically compel virginal Mina Murray (Winona Ryder) to turn his way on a crowded London street.

The climactic confrontation with Giuliani inside the Mark Hotel in Midtown Manhattan, during which Tutar poses as a conservative journalist in order to make her move on “America’s Mayor,” is perhaps Borat Subsequent Moviefilm’s most shocking and uncomfortably hilarious scene—not simply for the already-infamous hand-in-his-pants moment.
Throughout, Nolasco’s frames are also filled with much hair—hairy faces, butts, and backs, suggesting a queer sexuality cobbled together with the coarseness of the men’s local environment, despite the clearly foreign influence of Nolasco’s hyper-stylized aesthetics.

But in their latest, Synchronic, the filmmakers do the fitting for you. Inarguable, really, but that’s also too easy, as one doesn’t have to look too far into a genre often preoccupied with offering simulations of death to conclude that the genre in question is about death. Thriller That Lacks Self-Awareness, Review: The Third Day Leans Heavily on Mystery at the Expense of Human Drama, Review: We Are Who We Are Perceptively Homes in on the Malleability of Boundaries, Interview: Garrett Bradley on Exploring Human Dimensionality in Time, Watch: Lady Gaga’s “911” Music Video Is a Surreal Death Dream, On the Rocks Trailer: A Father-Daughter Journey Through the City that Never Sleeps, Listen: Dua Lipa Elevates “Levitating” with Help from Madonna and Missy Elliott, Review: Billie Eilish’s “My Future” Is an Unexpectedly Upbeat Tribute to Isolation, Blu-ray Review: Henry King’s The Gunfighter on the Criterion Collection, Review: Solid Metal Nightmares: The Films of Shinya Tsukamoto on Arrow Blu-ray, Review: Sidney J. Furie’s The Ipcress File on KL Studio Classics Blu-ray, Blu-ray Review: Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite on the Criterion Collection, Blu-ray Review: Stephen Frears’s The Hit on the Criterion Collection, In Ivo van Hove’s Hands, West Side Story’s Actors Are Mice in A Cinematic Maze, Review: Hamlet at St. Ann’s Warehouse Is a Triumph of Production Over Performance, Confessions of a Drag Legend: Charles Busch on The Confession of Lily Dare, Review: Timon of Athens Takes Arms Against the Ravages of Wealth, Under the Radar 2020: The Shadow Whose Prey the Hunter Becomes, Not I, & More, Bestiary Poetically Raises a Coming-of-Age Tale to the Level of Myth, Glenn Kenny’s Made Men: The Story of Goodfellas Is a Stellar Anatomy of a Film, The Appointment Is a Bitterly Comic Unburdening of a Conscience, For Stephen King, As Well As His Fans, If It Bleeds Is a Coming Home.


Angst is as singular and exhausting an account of psychopathy as any put to celluloid, thrusting the viewer helplessly into discomfiting closeness with a killer without attempting to explain or forgive his heinous acts. But there’s hope in brotherhood, and in negotiating the ghostly Santi’s past and bandying together against the cruel Jacinto (Eduardo Noriega), the film’s children ensure their survival and that of their homeland. Search all of SparkNotes Search.

It is, then, a provocative juxtaposition for Nolasco to stage his queer kinkfest at the epicenter of the land of Bolsonaro. Review: Robert Zemeckis’s Take on The Witches Casts a Weak Spell, Review: Borat Subsequent Moviefilm’s Satire Could Use Sharper Teeth, Adam Nayman’s Paul Thomas Anderson Masterworks Honors PTA’s Ambiguities, NewFest 2020: Dry Wind and Alice Júnior Take Aim at the Patriarchy in Brazil, With “Positions,” Ariana Grande Aims to Set Her Status as Pop’s Reigning Princess, Review: Beabadoobee’s Fake It Flowers Evokes Nostalgia Like a Childhood Bedroom, Review: Bruce Springsteen’s Letter to You Is More Homecoming Than Retread, Review: The Mountain Goats’s Getting Into Knives Is Overproduced and Under-Thought, Review: Star Wars Squadrons Takes Star Wars Fans on a Ride They Deserve, Review: Ikenfell Has a Narrative that Considerably Out-Charms Its Combat, Review: Spelunky 2 Spit-Polishes a Familiar Formula to Near-Perfection, Review: Marvel’s Avengers Forces You to Run the Games-As-a-Service Hamster Wheel, Review: No Straight Roads Is Richly in Tune with Its Personal Themes, Review: Season 3 of Star Trek: Discovery Remains Stuck in the Future’s Past, Review: The Good Lord Bird Infuses an Abolition Story with Wry, Dark Comedy, Review: Fox’s Next Is an A.I. Soon, Dennis’s 18-year-old daughter, Brianna (Ally Ioannides), pops the drug at a party and disappears, trapped in history, a damsel in distress held captive by time itself. However, that coda is replaced by a non-Dahl framing device voiced by Chris Rock that brings a new wrinkle to the conclusion which would be more enjoyable if it weren’t doing double duty as the launch pad for potential sequels or spin-offs. These torrid trysts mostly take place in the woods, on bare soil or parked motorcycles, and involve piss, ass-eating, and face-spitting. Cinematographer Carson Lund bathes the story’s neighborhood settings in a pastel light that again evokes the ‘70s—or, at least, modern pop culture’s impression of the decade. “Fucked!” That’s how Michael Gira described how his hearing is after a live show in a 2015 interview with the Guardian. Show More. Dry Wind follows the routines of a community of factory workers in the rural city of Catalão, where sex between soccer-loving men who wouldn’t hesitate to call themselves “discreet” always seems to be happening or about to happen. The film’s oh-so-1960s psychosexual subtext may be slightly under-baked, but that only serves to heighten the verisimilitude of its supernatural happenings. On There Will Be Blood, he notably writes the following: “Emerging and descending at his own methodical pace, he’s an infernal figure moving in a Sisyphean rhythm, and the trajectory of his movements—grueling ascents and sudden, punishing drops along a vertical axis, punctuating an otherwise steady horizontal forward progress—establishes the visual and narrative patterning of the film to come.”. The extreme close-up of the weave process, as the needle snakes through the tender landscape of Anna’s scalp while drawing blood, is brilliantly cringe-inducing. Her own natural hair gets her dirty looks from white co-workers in the lobby and a miniature lecture from Zora herself, so despite what her family and her other black co-workers might think, she follows Zora’s lead and gets a weave. Bria’sn (Rick Herbst) degradation suggests the crack epidemic of the 1980s, and the threat and alienation of AIDS lingers over the outré, sexualized set pieces, especially when Brian cruises a night club called Hell and picks up a woman, who’s murdered by Aylmer (voiced by John Zacherle) just as she’s about to go down on Brian. And the camera lingers on details that indicate the ecstasies and miseries lingering underneath this suburban mirage, such as a shot of trash in a yard that suggests the aftermath of either indifference or violence, or of a postcard sent to a girl from her sister in college, which is written in an unnaturally, over-compensatingly proclamatory style that implies desperation while serving as a mockery of the girls’ simplified visions of future adulthood.

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